


Alpha

by TheWildChild



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Acceptance, Demons, Friendship, High School, M/M, Violence, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-08 13:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5498213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWildChild/pseuds/TheWildChild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick is an Alpha, a really rare kind of demon. What will happen when he has to deal with a new Alpha, knowing they generally those creatures can't stand each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nice Way To Meet New Friends

**Author's Note:**

> So, a little introduction.  
> I was listening to Metallica's album "Ride The Lightning" when I thought it would be a badass soundtrack for something with demons and all and i don't know, i just started writing this.  
> I can't upload a lot since I have to work for my exams and that I'm working on another fiction "Save Me, Love Me" at the same time.  
> There is no relationship yet but it will come later in the story, since I'm working on the plot while I'm writing, I don't really know when though

Somewhere in a high school of Chicago, Patrick was sitting on the stairs at the entrance of the building, his bag on his back and looking at all the others students in front of him. Those friends talking, laughing, the others walking by him. _Ride The Lightning_ was being blast in his ears while his blue eyes were scrutinizing those teenagers. If somebody was looking at him, this person would see a seventeen year old boy. A totally normal boy, not really into social interactions and not thinking about changing anything about that. But in reality, it was different, he was something else. Something those people wouldn't imagine, wouldn't even dare of having nightmares of. No one had any idea something like that was "alive", but it was, and he wasn't alone in the country or in the world. They weren't a lot though and only one person in the boy's entourage was aware of what he was. But he knew things were about to change. He could feel it, the only problem was that he couldn't quite figure out what was about to happen and it was beginning to piss him of.

The boy sighed before he gritted his teeth, pressing his left hand against his forehead. The other one was against the stairs as he closed his eyes. Again, his head was hurting really hard. He bent a little before he startled, feeling a hand against his shoulder. The pain left him as he turned his head towards the person trying to get his attention. He looked at Pete a few seconds, this one talking. He blinked three times and the newcomer removed Patrick's earphones.

"Patrick, come on, react!" The older one said with a laugh. Patrick took his earphones back before he stood up.

"You're late." Patrick simply said with the same inexpressive face before he turned around to climb the few steps and enter in the building. He always looked a little pissed, probably because he didn't like this place. Pete followed him, still smiling as he passed his arm around Patrick's shoulders.

"Come on, don't be like that, aren't you happy to see me?" He asked before Patrick moved his shoulders to remove Pete's arm. "What a shame to be grumpy all the time, you should enjoy life!" He said with a big smile. Patrick stopped a second and glanced at him. Pete couldn't help but laugh and walk towards his locker. Patrick stayed where he was during a few seconds, staring at the boy's back. He remember the way Pete learned about him, the way they met a year before.

 

 

It was dark and the rain was pouring hard on Pete's head. He wiped the blood on his bottom lip with his left thumb, looking at it.

"Son of a bitch..." He muttered before he sighed. He should stop going out too late at night, it was always ending like that. He shook his head, passed a hand in his black hair to remove them from his forehead. He turned to his right to take the alley he was taking everyday to go home, his hands in his pockets. He was glancing around him, not that he was afraid, or at least that's what he was telling himself. Alleys weren't really reassuring in the middle of the night. When he heard a noise, he didn't stop walking but looked behind him just to be sure nobody was there. He stopped when he heard another noise, turning around. He raised his hands, pissed. "Anybody's here?" He pursed his lips, let his arms down again and found himself pretty idiot. "Right, killers always say they're here when you call them." He said with a nervous laugh before he shook his head and turned around to walk faster, looking behind him from times to times. He turned to his left and that's when he almost ran into a man. He stepped back. "S-Sorry, didn't see ya..." He said, not too loud. He raised his head to see the man's face. He was taller than him, which wasn't that difficult, and Pete swallowed his saliva. It was dark and he couldn't really see the man's face but this one didn't move, he was staring at Pete. This one was about to walk again when his attention was captured by the man's eyes. He stepped back again, looking at the two yellow pupils. He stopped breathing as the man walked towards him. He backed away until his back met the wall, he couldn't stop staring at the man, his fear being visible on his face. Slowly, the man approached and the weak light lightening the alley allowed Pete to see his face. His eyes were wide opened when he saw the man's features. He hardly swallowed his saliva, letting himself slowly slide against the wall. It's like he didn't have any strength anymore, he wasn't even shaking, he couldn't move, the only thing he could do was staring at the creature's eyes. He couldn't scream for help either, it was a real mess in his head. He was conscious about what was happening but couldn't do anything to try to escape. The man bent, tilting his head as he approached it from Pete's. The thing took a long breath like he was smelling the teenager before he had a smirk on his face.

Everything happened very fast. Pete could see a figure falling behind the creature before he saw hands on its temples. Before Pete could blink, he heard a big creak. The man's neck was broken, had been turned at least at 180 degrees and his body fell on the ground to let the boy see what he identified as another teenager. He blinked a few times, his teeth gritted so hard his jaw was hurting him. He began to take his breath more easily as he saw the boy's penetrating blue eyes. So blue they were almost white. But the guy seemed familiar though. Pete didn't know what to do anymore, he was overwhelmed and feeling sick because of that. He looked at the dead body again and at the boy a few times before Patrick rolled his eyes and shook his head. Suddenly, Pete could see his eyes getting their original blue again before the guy turn around to walk.

"W-Wait!" Pete almost shout, quickly standing up. He stopped, slowly climbed over the big and very dead body before he walked towards the boy who didn't stop. "H-Hey, wait for me... Wait!" He repeated, running to get to the boy, putting his hand on his shoulder. He didn't really know why he didn't simply run away but the guy saved him and didn't seem like he was about to attack him. He felt the boy warm hand on his wrist. His savior turned around and easily twisted his arm, making Pete turned around and moan.

"You don't touch me." He heard the boy say before he was pushed away. Pete rubbed his right wrist, turning around to look at the boy. He was small and seemed harmless, almost weak. Yet, he had killed the creature without any difficulty and seemed quite aggressive. Plus, he seemed his age, but he was also something else than a human, from what he had seen.

"I'm sorry... I just... Thank you..." He said. The boy frowned and Pete opened his mouth to try and say something before he just closed it.

"We're done?" Patrick asked before turning around again and walking, his hands in his pocket.

"M-Man, wait... That's it?" Pete said, walking towards the boy. This one stopped and faced Pete again, this one quickly stopping his walk to not run into him.

"What, you want a hug or somethin'?"

"Wh-what? No, I just... What was that? And you... You are..." He said, starting to whisper. Should he say "you're a creature too!" ? It didn't seem really polite. After a second, he wondered if he had to be polite in this situation but the boy just tilted his head to see the man's body on the ground before he looked at Pete again.

"That? A demon." Patrick said casually. Pete seemed to not believe him.

"What?"

"That was a demon."

"Wait, no, wait... What?" It couldn't be possible.

"Are you deaf?" The boy asked, wrinkling his eyes.

"N-No but... Excuse me to not believe that-"

"Yeah okay you know what, I'm working right now so you can just be pleased that I saved your ass and keep the rest of your questions for yourself." Patrick said, walking away again. Pete didn't move for a while before he realized where he still was. He ran towards the other teenager.

"Come on, you're not leaving me alone? And if there is another one?"

"There isn't another one and you're not a kid. I think." He said, not looking at the boy walking next to him.

"How could you know?"

"I would have sensed it." Pete stared at the boy, trying to walk at his rhythm.

"Are you like him?"

"Don't think so, I don't remember looking like I had a basin full of acid thrown at my face."

"Yeah but..." Patrick stopped again, sighed and looked at the boy.

"But what?"

"You're not... Human, right?" It took a moment for Patrick to answer and Pete wondered a second if it was because the boy was taken aback.

"It seems like I'm walking with Captain Obvious today." During a moment, Pete thought the guy would be less sarcastic or something like that but he ended by rolling his eyes, seeing he couldn't change his savior's mood.

"So if he's a demon, you're like... An angel?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. He immediately heard the boy laughing like he told a really good joke. Patrick shook his head, still laughing as he started to walk again, leaving the alley, Pete still following him.

"Trust me, I'm no angel. There is no such crap."

"But there's crap like demons?" Pete asked, troubled. Patrick turned around, pointing his finger towards Pete's chin as he looked at him with a grave gaze.

"I'm no crap either. You watch your mouth." Pete didn't say a thing anymore, he just looked at the boy. So, he was a demon too. But was he a kind one? That was weird, a demon couldn't be kind. Plus the boy was clearly super aggressive. Demons shouldn't exist. It took a moment before the other teenager pursed his lips, letting down his hand, still looking at the boy.

"I'm sorry." Pete said, serious. Did this boy had feelings despite his condition? They kept staring at each other during a few seconds before Patrick looked around him. The rain was slowly stopping and the boy he saved seemed cold and was totally wet.

"Where do you live?"

"Two blocks away..." Pete said.

"Come on." Patrick said as he walked, Pete coming next to him again. There was a whole minute of a perfect silence, in the demon's opinion, before Pete broke it.

"So, if you're a de-"

"Can't you keep your questions for you?"

"Man, I'm trying to understand."

"There is nothing to understand."

"But how comes you look like a human and that you saved me? Why a demon would kill another demon to save a human being?"

"Why some humans being kill other humans being? I have nothing to teach you, okay? It's not like I was enjoying torturing them or eatin' them after." Patrick said, looking right in front of him. Pete raised his eyebrows, still looking at the boy, his eyes more opened than before. He finally put his hands in his pockets, looking in front of him before he whispered.

"Dude, awkward."

Pete agreed to stay silent until they arrived at his place. Patrick stopped on the sidewalk from the house and Pete turned around but kept walking towards the steps. "Wanna come-"

"No way."

 

 

Patrick shook his head and walked towards his friend, this one putting his books in his bag.

"So, headaches again?" Pete asked, looking at the demon. This one glanced at him before he looked around, nodding. "Still don't know why?"

"Nah. Something is gonna happen." He said, almost whispering. He was clearly more talking to himself than to Pete but this one didn't care.

"Like something serious? Are we in danger?" He asked. Patrick didn't replied right away, he was still looking at the students. When he blinked, he fixed his eyes on Pete.

"I don't know." He said. Pete sighed and closed his locker.

"Come on, we're gonna be late." He said before walking.

"Are you trying to make a joke right now?" Patrick said, looking at the boy. Pete rolled his eyes and laughed a little.

"Come on, I'm sorry if I'm always late but some of us need to sleep, you should try one day."

"Right." Patrick said, shaking his head. Even if he always seemed pissed or disinterested, he started to appreciate Pete's presence not too long after their meeting. It had been difficult, he was used to be alone but since Pete knew his secret, it was kinda easy to hang out with him. Plus he was entertaining and he let him the opportunity to observe human's behavior, thing he found really interesting since he lost that a few years back. He sat next to Pete in the classroom before the teacher entered the room. She was looking a lot like Pete's mom.

 

 

Pete heard someone knocking on his bedroom's window. He froze in front of his computer, raising his eyes to stare at his wall. Since he met the demon, he couldn't sleep well and was afraid when he was hearing noises he couldn't tell the source of. He slowly turned around, swallowing his saliva. What was his surprise when he saw Patrick on the big tree's branch next to his house. After he realized who it was, he stood up and walked towards the window, opening it.

"What the hell man?" He whispered as he stared at Patrick. This one was looking at him, apparently sweating. "Night's workout?" He asked. Patrick frowned and Pete stopped smiling like an idiot, clearing his throat. "What are you doing here?" He said, stepping back to go sit on his bed. He seemed casual for someone knowing Patrick was a demon, that's probably why Patrick knew he could go see him.

"I need a hand." He said. Pete stood up again and walked towards the window, raising a hand towards the demon. This one frowned again, hitting it. "Not like that, are you stupid?" He said, shaking his head. The guy had climb the three like it was nothing, he wasn't really afraid of going inside the bedroom without any help. "I need water. And put salt in it." He said. Pete raised an eyebrow. "Oh and humid compresses, if you have some."

"Um... Yeah, okay..." Pete said, not understanding a thing. He turned around and left his room, a little bit uneasy to let a demon there. But he went down the stairs and went into his kitchen, taking water in a bowl and putting salt in it.

"What are you doing, honey?" His mother asked as she walked in the kitchen, towards the fridge. She was surprised to see her son startled at her voice and he looked at her.

"Nothing wrong." He replied immediately. His mother laughed a little and shook her head.

"Okay, did you do your homeworks?"

"I'm doing them."

"And that's why you're using all my salt in your water?" She asked. Pete startled again, remembering he was pouring salt into the bowl full of water. He stopped and had a nervous laugh before he put the salt back at its place.

"Yeah. That's for my science homework. We're doing like... Some experiments, you know."

"I see. Don't spill it everywhere, I'm not going to clean after you this time, Pete." She said with a smile. Pete nodded before he took the bowl and started walking. He finally turned around.

"Do we have any compresses?" He asked. His mother looked at him before nodding.

"Yes, in the bathroom, why?"

"The experiment. You know. Thanks." He said before he climbed up the stairs again, as fast as possible. He went in the bathroom to take some compresses and wet them before he came back in his room. He was surprise to see the boy was still on the tree, apparently looking at an invisible point of his bedroom. "Is your seat comfortable?" He asked. After at least three whole seconds, Patrick looked at him.

"I can't come in."

"Why? We're not religious persons, you ain't gonna burn."

"You have other stereotypes like that or is it the only one?"

"I have a few. Like-"

"You can keep them for you. You have what I asked for?"

"Yeah, and what is that for?" Pete asked. "Man you're really staying there? Why can't you enter?"

"'Cause you didn't invite me in."

"Demons have manners?" He said with a laugh. Patrick didn't seem really amused though.

"Apparently you don't." He said dryly. Pete cleared his throat before walking towards his desk, putting the bowl and the compresses on it.

"Okay so... I invite you into my humble residence." He said with a little smile. Whatever Patrick could be saying, it seems that he would never be able to stop acting like that. Patrick sighed and was in the room in a little leap. Pete watched him do it and noticed the guy had his left hand against his right arm since the beginning.

"You could simply say "come in", you know." He said but Pete was focused on the boy's arm. He pointed it with his chin.

"What do you have?"

"That's why I need those." Patrick said as he removed his hand from the wound on his arm. He had blood on the fabric of his sweater, on his hand and had probably a lot more on the arm itself. He then removed totally his sweater, Pete raising his eyebrows.

"Make yourself at home." He whispered.

"I'm not gonna stay for too long anyway." Patrick said, looking at Pete. This one told himself to remember to think this kind of sarcastic comments because demons apparently had a good hearing. The demon put his sweater on Pete's chair and this one looked at his body. He was pale, even though his face was way paler, and had some scars on his skin, whether on his back than on his chest. And was that a tattoo, on his collarbone? It was a number, apparently. A-12.

"So, I thought demons were more resistant. I mean, you look like someone dying for a simple scratch."

"Yeah right. I would love to see you being... Scratched by the asshole who did this. A human would die from the poison in approximately six seconds, if they are lucky enough to not endure the pain during... Let's say thirty seconds before they die."

"Owh. Okay." Pete said, suddenly less confident. "But you're a demon, why is it still affecting you like that?" He asked as he saw Patrick cleaning the wound with the compresses.

"It's complicated. That's why I just need to disinfect it but..." The demon put his hand in the bowl, looking at it. A few seconds after, Pete could see fumes coming from it. He walked towards Patrick, looking at the water. He saw the water was boiling in the bowl and he wondered how the guy could keep his hand in it before he shook his head, remembering he wasn't human. He followed Patrick who was walking towards the window to sit on the edge. He stretched his arm above the grass one floor down. He sighed before he raised the bowl above his arm and spill what was inside on the wound. He gritted his teeth, rejecting his head backwards as he tried to not moan. Pete could see the smoke emanating from the wound but Patrick was moving dangerously on the edge.

"Man be careful..." He whispered. He suddenly saw Patrick falling down. He rushed towards the window, trying to grab the man by the ankle but it was too late. He saw the fall, the guy hit the ground head first. He wanted to call the demon, hoping he was alright. He didn't know how this all demon thing was working. A week before, he killed the man by breaking his neck, maybe the guy wouldn't survive by meeting the ground with his head like that. But before he could do anything, his mother opened the door.

"Pete, I-" She stopped, looking at his son. This one turned around to face his mom, feeling a heat wave in his body. "What are you doing? You're going to catch a cold." She said as she walked towards the window to close it. Pete moved a little to be in front of her.

"No mom, it's okay, don't worry. I'm not a child anymore." He said with a little smile. "What do you want?"

"I washed your clothes from your last outing. What happened for them to end like that?" She asked, showing him the clothes in her hands

"I fell." Pete said before he tried to smile innocently. His mother shook her head, put the clothes on his bed before she was ready to leave.

"Pete, what is that?" She suddenly almost shout as she walked towards the desk. "Is that blood?" She said, taking the compresses. She glanced at the grey sweater on the chair. It was ripped and there was also blood on it. "Peter, what happened? Are you okay?" She asked as she walked towards her son.

"Yeah, yeah, mom, I'm okay, it's not... What you think..."

"What is it then?" She said as she kept checking her son's arms.

"It's not real blood... I'm not doing an experiment for my science lesson... I'm... Making a halloween costume..." He said. God, he was incapable of using his brain.

"In February?" His mother asked, looking at him.

"Obviously..." Pete said, trying to not look too stressed out. His mother sighed, she was used to her son's behavior but it was really weird.

"I want you to clean up this mess before you come downstairs, I need your help."

"Yeah, okay, let's do that." He said with a smile, waiting for her to leave. She shook his head again before turning around. He waited for her to close the door before he turned around towards the window to see Patrick squatted on the edge. He startled and put a hand on his chest. "Man, you scared the shit out of me."

"Apparently, your mother is better at it than me. You're not even afraid of having a demon in your bedroom." Patrick replied.

"Whatever man... You alright?"

"Yeah?" Patrick said like it was obvious he had nothing. "And your bowl is alive." The demon said, raising the bowl. He gave it to Pete who took it clumsily, making it fall and crash on the floor. Patrick let his face meet his own hand, tired of Pete's behavior. He went down of the window's edge, sighing. "Man, you're a real phenomenon, you know that?"

"Yeah..." Pete whispered before he bent to start taking the pieces of glass from the floor. The door opened again.

"Peter, did yo-" His mother began, having heard the bowl being broke but she stopped as she saw the shirtless teenager in her son's bedroom. "What the..." She began. She didn't understand. He wasn't there a minute before and was that an injury on his arm?

"Mom, I can explain!" Pete said, not really sure he actually could.

 

 

At the end of the day, the two boys went out of the school only to see two ambulances and police cars driving fast in front of the school.


	2. Twisted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i need an agressive patrick in my life

"What did you do to hurt yourself like that?" Pete's mom asked.

  
"I fell." Patrick said with his impassive voice. The mother was looking at Patrick's injury, this one sitting on the couch. She raised her head only to face his two big and shiny blue eyes. She smiled at the young man and glanced at her son.

  
"It sounds like one of his excuses." She said, smiling. Patrick was still looking at her and thought Pete probably had inherited his mom's smile. When she saw the boy wasn't about to laugh at anything or even talk more, she tilted her head, looking at him. "So, can I know what you were doing in my son's bedroom to let him take care of that? Your parents must be worried, shouldn't you be home?" She asked. Patrick didn't answer, he kept looking at her, imperturbable.

  
"He ran away." Pete said. Patrick didn't look at him but thought Pete was lying with ease. "That's why I didn't ask you to help me, he didn't want you to try to drive him home or something. He fell getting out by the window." He explained. He didn't even know how he was finding this story, it just came automatically. He heard his mother sighing before she looked at Patrick again.

  
"You could have seriously hurt yourself, that was dangerous." Patrick kept quiet, thinking she was more in danger with him in her house than he would ever be by falling of a window and Pete knew it too. She sighed again. "What is your name again?"

  
"I didn't say it. It's Patrick." Now Pete was thinking about it, until now he didn't know his name either.

  
"And Patrick don't know what hurts, look at him. I'm telling you mom, it's okay." Pete said, referring at the scars on Patrick's body. His mother looked at Patrick bare chest during a second before she looked at him again. She noticed the scars when she saw Patrick in her son's bedroom but didn't say anything. Was Pete saying he had that because he was always doing dangerous things like escaping thanks to his window?

  
"I had a car accident five years ago." The demon said, still looking at Pete's mom. This one frowned, looking at her son.

  
"You shouldn't joke about that, Pete." She said, very serious. From the scars, she could tell it had to be pretty serious and she mainly wondered how the boy survived. The scar near his heart was looking like something had been sunk in his chest.

  
"It's okay, I don't mind him." Patrick said when Pete opened his mouth. He didn't know it, of course, he thought it was because of other demons or something like that and now he was feeling bad.

  
"Pete, go take some bandages for me please." She asked her son. This one nodded, got down of the couch's armrest and left the living room to climb up the stairs and go in the bathroom. His mother smiled at Patrick again. "So, Patrick... I don't mind if you sleep here tonight but I don't know if it's fair for your parents to not tell them anything. They must be looking for you." She said. Patrick shook slowly his head. They weren't looking for him, they never had to look for him again after the accident. The mother seemed sad and tilted her head. "Patrick, as a mother... I just think maybe you should reassure them... I'm always worrying when Pete goes out and don't tell me when he will be back, I always think something can happen to him even if he's a grown up." She said, not noticing Pete was back. This one was looking at his mother, thinking about the night he met Patrick. He felt a shiver running down his back and Patrick kept staring at Pete's mother's eyes.

  
"I'll call them."

  
"I'm trusting you to do it. You seem to be a good boy." She said with a smile. He was very calm and quiet, he really seemed kind but there was something about him she couldn't figure. She noticed Pete's presence and smiled at her son. "Thank you, honey." She said as she took the bandages. She started to take care of Patrick's wound and looked at him. "So, are you going to the same school as Peter? Is that how you two met?"

  
"Yeah, that's exactly that!" Pete said probably too cheerful.

 

"You never talked to me about him. Since when do you know him?"

  
"I'm new." Patrick said, looking at Pete's mother. This one looked at his eyes again and felt suddenly uneasy. He was looking at her since she appeared in Pete's room and she didn't know why he kept being inexpressive like that. She didn't understand how he was friend with her son, they didn't seem to have a lot in common and their behavior was really different. "Pete is... Nice." Patrick said after he had to think about an adjective. Until here, he wasn't really considering Pete as someone he would try to be friend with, even as a human. The guy was too noisy and seemed to not be able to channel his energy. But Pete's mother smiled.

  
"I tried to give this bad boy some good manners." She said. She seemed to be proud of her son and to love him very much. Patrick kept staring at her a few seconds before talking again.

  
"You did well." He said, almost whispering. That was the first time since he was there that is tone was changing. She looked at him a few seconds, surprised before she smiled again, her eyes almost closed because of that.

  
"Here." She said as the bandage was done. "I have painkillers, if you want. It seems painful."

  
"It's not." The boy said. The mother raised her eyebrows before she sighed.

 

"Tell me if you need anything, okay? I will give you boys some time, I'm going to make something to eat for you two."

  
"I'm not hungry." Patrick said. He really wasn't.

  
"You need to eat even if you're not at your place. You lost blood and it seems that it was a rough day. Let me cook you something, okay?" She insisted. Patrick nodded after a few seconds and she finally left. Pete let himself slip from the armrest to the couch, crossing his legs as he was looking at Patrick. This one was staring at the open door, where Pete's mother went to go in the kitchen.

  
"So, car crash, uh?" Pete whispered. Patrick wondered where his good manners were gone before he looked at him.

  
"Yeah."

  
"Man, you need to be more talkative." Pete said, laughing. Patrick didn't change his expression and kept staring at the boy. "And stop looking at people like that. My mom probably think you're a weirdo of some sort, always looking at her, talking like that and acting like that."

  
"Shut up." Patrick said, rolling his eyes. Pete smiled and shook his head.

  
"Tell me more 'bout that. That's how you became... You know..."

  
"Is it an habit to not finish your sentences when you're talking about me? Say it." Patrick said, tired to hear Pete's "you know". This one was taken aback but cleared his throat.

  
"Is that how you became... A demon?" He whispered. Patrick looked in front of him, staring at a family picture. He stood up and walked towards the piece of furniture the picture was on. Pete was looking at him, not moving from the couch but examining Patrick's back. There was the same circle as the one on his chest. It was impressive and he wondered if the little scars on his chest around the big one's area were there because of some glass' slivers while the circle meant the boy had been impaled. He waited the whole minute Patrick took to examine the picture before this one simply nodded. Pete raised his eyebrows and was suddenly more concerned. "So... You like... Died because of that? 'Cause it means you weren't a demon in the first place, right?" He asked, curious. Patrick turned around, looking at him. He nodded again but didn't say anything. Pete stood up and walked towards the young man. "How old are you, if it was five years ago? I mean, do you get old when you're a demon?" He said before he laughed alone, imagining an old man fighting with a superhuman strength. Patrick raised an eyebrow, looking at the laughing boy.

  
"I was twelve." Pete looked surprised. When he was twelve, he was happily playing soccer with his friends, not thinking somewhere a boy as old as he was was dying in an accident somewhere. It was a strange realization.

  
"Man, I have your age... That's so... Weird..." He whispered. "But hey... So you're still getting older? I mean, you probably didn't look like that at that time."

  
"We stop growing up at twenty-one." Patrick muttured before he walked towards the couch to sit again, his hands in his pockets.

  
"So fucking weird..." Pete whispered, looking at the man. "And your tattoo?" Wentz said, pointing to Patrick's collar bone where "A-12" was written.

  
"Not really a tattoo. More like a serial number." Patrick said, looking at Pete. "I'm the twelfth Alpha."

  
"What?"  
"It's complicated, I already told you." Patrick said. "Stop asking me questions." He said. This time, Pete didn't feel like the boy was trying to be unpleasant so he nodded and joined his hands in his back.

  
"My mom will make you stay, is that okay or do you have to... Like... go in Hell or something during the day?" He asked automatically without realizing it meant he was annoying the boy again. Patrick looked directly at him and Pete froze before he awkwardly smiled. "Sorry."

  
"You need to make a list of those ideas of yours for me to burn it." He whispered before he stood up. "I guess I can stay, I don't have anywhere to go anyway."

  
"But where do you live?"

  
"Not in Hell." Patrick said, exchanging a gaze with the other boy before this one smiled again in a shy way.

  
"Come on, I'm gonna give you a mattress and we will put it in my bedroom, unless you want to sleep on the couch?"

  
"I don't sleep."

  
"Sorry?" Pete asked, surprised. Patrick stared a him a second before he sighed.

  
"I never sleep. Stop looking at me like that, now." Patrick said seriously. Pete cleared his throat and walked to leave the room with Patrick behind him. They were climbing up the stairs when Pete asked a question again. Patrick thought he probably would kill him to distract himself during this long night.

  
"So you don't eat either? I mean you said you weren't hungry but is that because of your condition?"

  
"Your food is not substantial enough, it's nothing but a crumb for my stomach. And don't call it a condition, you idiot."

  
"So what do you eat?"

  
"Keep walking, Pete."

 

_

 

"Man, did you see the news?" Pete said as he was running towards Patrick who was, again, waiting for him. This one didn't look like he was in the mood to talk but shook his head.

  
"I don't know if you remember that I don't have a house so I don't have any TV."

  
"Right..." Pete said, sometimes almost forgetting the boy wasn't human and living as he was living. "It's about the ambulances and the police we saw yesterday. A boy died in a car crash."

  
"Why do you want me to care about that?" Patrick asked.

  
"No man you don't get it!" Pete said as he took a newspaper from his bag.

  
"Since when do you know how to read?" Patrick asked, looking at his friend. The fact he was never showing any expression always gave his sarcasms more effect but this time Pete couldn't care less. He unfolded the paper to show Patrick the front page. Patrick raised an eyebrow and focused on the paper for a second. He was capable to read extremely fast. He gritted his teeth, reading the boy was dead impaled on the passenger seat. He looked at the photo of the boy, a seventeen year old boy with curly and short hair was smiling next to the picture of the car crash. Patrick kept staring at his blue eyes before he raised his head to look at Pete.

  
"It's at the exact same place you had your accident, Patrick..." Pete almost whispered. He looked at the newspaper again. "That's crazy. Do you think it is a sign of something? I mean, you said something was going to happen, you had those headaches and all, you think it's connected to that?" Pete couldn't stop talking. Patrick was trying to calm the ideas revolving in his head but he couldn't. Suddenly, he pressed his right hand against his right temple, moaning as he bent forward. Pete put his hands on his shoulders. "Bro, you okay?" He asked. Patrick had his eyes closed as he started feeling lethargic. He put a hand on Pete's wrist, trying to not break him as his grip was probably too tight for Pete. But this one didn't complained and waited for Patrick to calm down. It happened approximately thirty seconds after, some students watching them. Patrick stood up straight again like nothing happened, looking at Pete. He removed his hand from his temple and sighed. "Man, it was worse than usually..." Pete said, still surprised. Patrick nodded a little, looking around him. The other students never really liked Patrick, he was making them feel insecure when he was looking at them but they seemed genuinely concerned. When they saw he looked okay, they went back to attending to their business. Patrick took a long breath before he looked at Pete again.

  
"I don't know if... I think... Probably... Look, I need to know when he will be buried."

  
"Man, that's shady..." Pete said, cringing.

  
"I don't care, Pete, I need to know. I need to... Figure things out, okay?"

 

"I want to help you."

  
"It's dangerous, Pete."

  
"Since when are you concerned about putting me in danger? You used me as a bait once and now you care?" Pete asked. It was one of the only times Patrick was taken aback. He looked down and shook his head.

  
"I will come to your place with you after school, okay?" He said after a few seconds. Pete nodded and they heard the bell ringing.


	3. The Guide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep having problems with this fic so i'm sorry with the formating (big spaces between the dialogues and all), it's not the first problem i have on the website lately so sorry again

"Joe Trohman, seventeen year old... Born on september first... There's photos of him playing guitar too... Let's see..." Pete was on his computer, searching every information the boys could have about the accident and the victim. Patrick was listening to everything he was saying, looking at the pictures and pacing up and down the bedroom. "He was in a school near here... Good student, he had some detention's hours but yeah..."

  
"How do you know- Is that his school record?" Patrick asked as he walked towards Pete to read above his friend's shoulder. "I didn't know we could have access to that." He said, turning his head towards Pete to see him staring at the screen.

  
"Well, let's say we can but that we will not talk about that with anyone else." He said. Patrick shook his head before he moistened his lips.

 

"Come on, search for the funeral." Patrick said. Pete started to look after that again.

  
"Wait, they put a new article about the accident..." He whispered before he started to read. He was interrupted by Patrick who had already read everything.

  
"It's already tomorrow." He whispered before he took a long breath, closing his eyes. Pete kept reading in his head.

  
"Oh..."

  
"It's okay." Patrick said. He knew Pete had read the article and saw they made the parallel with the accident that occured at the same place five years before where a twelve year old boy died in the same tragic circumstances. Pete could see a photo of a smiling and young Patrick next to Joe's portait. Pete turned his chair towards Patrick , crossing his arms.

 

"Do you think he will be like you?" He asked. Patrick glanced at him, scratching his head.

  
"I can't be sure but if that's the case, he will come back tomorrow night."

  
"So you say demons but... You're more like zombies, right?"

  
"We have nothing to do with those pieces of shit."

 

"But you died and came back so-"

 

"We're superior."

  
"That's so great to hear all that modesty, you should cut yourself some slack and allow you to say you're strong and all."

 

"It's just the truth, Pete. I thought you knew it since a while."

  
"... Anyway. You never told me anything about your race or your death when you answered my questions so... What are you planning to do? 'Cause I wanna help but I don't know what to do 'cause I don't know how it works." Pete said before he saw Patrick looking down.

  
"When I... When I died, I was in this place, well I think it was Hell. I guess it was."

  
"Oh, so you don't know."

  
"No, I don't, Pete, all I know is that I don't want to go back there if I have to die again one day." Patrick said dryly. Pete pursed his lips and nodded, listening to his friend. "I stayed there until they buried me. I could see everything that was going on, I understood everything and there was this guy, explaining me how it would be after my funeral."

  
"Do you know who he was?" Patrick glanced at Pete before staring at the floor again, almost whispering.

  
"He told me to call him Brendon. He marked me." He explained, touching the serial number's place. "And he explained to me what was going on, what I was and what I would do when I'd be back above the place we were in."

  
"What did he make you do for you to not wanting to go there anymore? I mean... Do you prefer to be here, alone?"

  
"It's not him. That's funny 'cause they call him... The Emperor, there. But he was so nice with me. That was almost the scariest part." Patrick said. He almost looked nostalgic but it probably wasn't because of this Brendon, more because he was thinking of his accident and his parents. And basically his old life. "It was the atmosphere there. It just makes you want to leave as soon as possible but you know you can't. And there was a lot of screaming around us. And... It was just... Weird you know. Anyway, I woke up in my coffin during the night, the day of my funeral. Brendon told me I would wake up at midnight and that's what I did. I was stuck in it, I had to break it and to dig my way out. I did, I got out of there in my suit and I looked behind me. There was this... Tombstone, you know. So freakin' weird. When I came back like an hour after to see the place again there wasn't a hole in the ground anymore, like nothing had happened, but the grave was still there."

  
Pete knew. He did his research back when he met Patrick. After this one gave Pete's mother his name, he went on a computer at school the very next day and searched information about the accident, knowing it was five years before and knowing the name of the victim. He found things about Patrick Stump, an Irish boy that had been impaled in the passenger seat by a steel bar. It had gone through the seat as well and apparently, the boy didn't died right away but didn't survived long enough to be alive when the ambulances arrived. The father was injured too but not as bad and the accident wasn't his fault. Still, he watched his son dying next to him, not capable of moving to help him, his head turned towards the boy. And then Pete went to the cemetery. He saw this tombstone, he saw the flowers and the pictures, he saw the dates on the stone and how the grass was green, how the ground was flat like nothing ever emerged from under.

  
Patrick remembered how much he cried this day as the bar was making his body burn from the pain, as he tried to move his hand to reach his father but couldn't make it. How afraid he was when he started to not being able to keep his eyes opened or to breathe anymore. How he tried to talk to his father, to ask for help but all he could feel was his blood coming slowly out of his mouth before he finally passed out, his blue eyes wild opened as his last tears ran down his cheeks, blending together with the blood.

  
Everything was so vivid in his head. He could see the scene from the outside since Brendon showed it after the boy asked what happened after he arrived in Hell.

  
"He told me that it wasn't the death we should have had. When I say "we", I'm talking about the eleven other Alphas around the world. Anyway, our lives had been taken before our time was up."

  
"So those all destiny things are all shitty if you can die before you should apparently have, right?" Pete asked. All his life he was told they all had a future and that every decisions humans were taking were making them being closer to this future. That meant that if you had to die when you were a child, you would die as a child and if you had to live a long life, you would live it. But if those demons were there because their fate had been changed, it probably meant nothing was sure. Maybe Pete had no future. He felt suddenly less confident.

  
"That's not shitty, Pete. You will do the things you're destined to do. He said it was rare. I am an exception, the eleven others are exceptions as well and he said there were already other persons on Earth without any future like me. He's probably one of them but... I'm not sure. I can't be sure. Maybe dying there was his fate."

  
"But the accident is totally similar. I mean, it's pretty odd. But that's great, doesn't it? You will have help and all, I like to hunt with you but... I'm not as strong and I can die so it can only be a plus."

  
"I'm not sure either." Patrick said, pursing his lips. Pete stared at him, frowning.

  
"How's that?"

  
"Alphas don't meet other Alphas. At least it never happened until now."

  
"But why?" Pete asked. Patrick looked in his friend's eyes, pursing his lips.

  
"I don't know." He whispered.

 

 

-

 

 

When Joe opened his eyes, it was all dark. He took a long breath, at least he tried. He tried to breathe again and again, pressing his throat between his fingers, feeling his lungs burning. He wasn't seeing anything so he moved his arms but there wasn't any space. It was wood around him, he could hear it when he knocked against the coffin he was in. He panicked and started to desperately scratch the wood above him before he finally hit it to break it. He felt some fragments of it falling on him and he kept hitting and scratching the planks before he started to touch the soil above him to finally dig to find his way out. The soil was falling on his face and his white shirt, he had a lot of it under his fingernails but he didn't feel any pain as he was digging. It finally became easier and he felt some kind of draft before his fingers emerged from the ground. He grabbed the rest of the soil, removing it and closing his eyes again to not let it fall in them. Finally, he put his hands on the ground, lifting himself up in a last effort. He let himself falling on his back with a heavy breathing. He touched his throat with his dirty fingers before pulling his tie to be able to have more air in his lungs. He felt like he was suffocating. He hardly stood up and removed his black jacket, letting it fall on the ground before his attention was captured by a smell. He frowned, took a long breath and he felt his temples being painful. He shook his head before looking around him. A cemetery. He ran his fingers through his hair before looking at the hole he digged. He raised his gaze, facing his own tombstone. He hardly swallowed his saliva and and felt his heart skipping a beat.

  
"Hey, you."

  
Joe turned around when he heard the voice coming from a few meters behind him.

 

 

An hour before this event, Pete sneaked out of his house with Patrick. He had asked his mom if this one could come and sleep over. She obviously accepted and wondered why Pete was still asking for her permission when the boy was almost there everyday. At eleven o'clock, they opened Pete's window and this one let Patrick carry him on his back to jump from the edge, landing silently on the grass. They took off to go directly at the cemetery and they waited there to see if the boy was raising from the dead.

  
"So... What if he actually comes back?" Pete whispered.

  
"You go talk to him."

  
"What? And what if he attacks me?"

  
"It will not be his first instinct if he just came back, Pete..."

  
"What was yours?" Patrick kept quiet a moment.

 

"I went to see my parents. I mean, not really see them... I watched them... I couldn't just come back in the house, it wouldn't... I had no right."

  
"Patrick..."

  
"I was fucking twelve... I was scared and I couldn't go see them. But the worst part was that my mom was sitting outside on my swing, crying. I left and I came back to the cemetery. It looked like nothing happened so I just... Left... That's why Brendon explains to you what will happen, you can't make a mistake, I knew I couldn't go and talk to them or anything, even if I wanted to." He said, whispering the whole time and surely not looking at Pete but only at Joe's grave. This one didn't know what to say, he could just think about how hard it had to be Patrick. "But you know... Twelve or seventeen, I guess that's the first thing he will want to do so... He will be too scared to attack you..."

  
"And... What do you want me to do exactly, Patrick?"

  
"Help him... Like you can... You can go with him at his old place if you want, but... I had to figure it all by myself at that time and I would have loved to have someone to give me a place to stay at least for the night. To take a shower and have a warm place to stay. Instead I stayed in my dirty clothes for days before I could find a place to take a shower and squat during a moment before having to leave again..."

  
"How did you find that place?" Pete asked. His friend didn't answer and Pete chose to not go any further on that subject, not sure he wanted to know what the twelve year old boy could have done at that time. Even if he was still the human he was, a part of him was demonic. That's when he turned his head towards the boy, hearing him smelling the air. "What is it?"

  
"What time is it?" Patrick asked, stepping back.

  
"It's time." Pete said after he checked on his phone.

  
"Yeah. He's here."

  
"How do you know?" Pete whispered, shivering and staring at the grave. He wasn't seeing anything moving.

  
"I smell him." Patrick said. Pete looked at him, raising an eyebrow. Patrick gritted his teeth, looking at the tombstone. "He's comin'... He's..." The boy cringed, pressed his right hand against his right temple and bent a little forward.

  
"Man, again? So that was really because of that..." Pete said as he put a hand on Patrick's shoulder. He heard some noise and looked at the grave again. That's when he heard a grunt that he glanced at his friend. He could see his eyes almost white and his changed denture. It was like he had three big canines instead of only one at each side of the teeth's upper row. The one in the middle of the canines was pretty big and the first one was half as big. The last canine looked like a simple one when this tooth shouldn't look this way. "Dude..." Pete said, removing his hand from Patrick's shoulder. The demon grunted again, stepping back. Basically, Patrick could perfectly control his body when he had to change like that but this time, it seemed like he had no choice. Patrick glanced at Pete and this one, for the first time since he met Patrick, wasn't feeling good when he was in his demon form, like he knew he was in danger. He probably always was but he didn't care until now because he knew Patrick wouldn't do anything against him but this time, he was sure he could attack him at any moment. He didn't move though, it wouldn't change anything anyway because Patrick could move way too fast. His heart was beating faster and he swallowed hardly his saliva. "C-Come on bro... It's me... Pete..." He whispered and before anything else happened, Patrick turned around and ran. Pete had his eyes wild opened as he looked at the fast shape still running before it jumped in a tree to leave the place. "What the hell, man..." He whispered for himself, left alone in the middle of the cemetery before he heard another noise. He turned around to see a hand coming directly from the ground. It looked like every zombie's movies he had seen but he knew who would come, he wasn't afraid after all he saw during the year. That's why after Joe totally came out from the ground, Pete called him.

  
"Hey, you." He said, firmly. He had to be full of confidence. Joe turned around and looked at him. He was so pale and so dirty at the same time. Pete felt bad for the boy. He lost everything, like Patrick did and now he was all alone. Almost. Pete accepted his role, he would take care of the boy. But what about Patrick? He saw how he vanished, how he transformed because he smelt the boy. But Pete wasn't smelling anything. Was that a demon thing? Patrick already explained to him how he could use a sixth sense , like some sort of a radar and that he could tell if a demon was in the area. But when he was hunting, he never transformed because he smelt their presences. It didn't make sense at all for him to be aggressive like that and to change against his will.

  
"Who are you?" Joe asked with a quavered and broken voice. Pete took a second to answer. He remembered the conversation he had with Patrick the day before about the fate. That's when he realize that if like his friend said, he was destined to do everything he would do in his life, that meant that help Patrick and Joe was maybe one of his life's goal, maybe being mixed with them was his fate. He tried to look confident before he answered.

  
"Your guide." He said with the same tone as before but there was those seconds of wavering that indicated it didn't came out like he wanted it to come out. Joe raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, not really in a mood to talk after what happened.

  
"My guide? Of course, yeah, that makes sense." Joe said, coldly. He basically was a social type of guy but something in him had changed. He was more distant and he could feel it but not change his mind.

  
"As much sense as you raising from the dead, yeah." Pete replied directly, frowning. Joe did the same and pursed his lips.

  
"What do you want?"

  
"To help you, I'm here for that." He explained, crossing his arms. "I know, Brendon probably didn't talk about me but... I'm still here for you, okay?"

  
"How do you..."

  
"Long story, I just know him, okay?" Pete said. He had to act like he knew what he was doing and he thought mentioning this "Brendon" would help him, which apparently worked because the boy understood Pete was well aware of the situation. Still, something was bothering Joe.

  
"You stink." He said after he smelt the air.

  
"That's not very polite..." Pete whispered before he cringed. No doubt, Patrick and Joe were the same. He walked towards Joe and this one stepped back. Pete could here the same grunt that Patrick made when he noticed Joe was awake earlier. It was an animal sound, coming from the inside of him and Joe had no clue why he was so suspicious about Pete.

  
"I'm telling you, you stink."

  
"Man, I showered before I came here. You're the one who was dead, you should be smelling so bad but you're telling me it comes from me?" Pete talked and he just couldn't help but start to discuss about that, offended. But Joe wasn't listening to him anymore, he turned his head towards the way Patrick used to leave. He closed his eyes and took a long breath. Pete raised his eyebrows and understood. "Oh, okay. I know what you're smelling. Is it that bad for you? 'Cause that's worse at my place." He explained with a little smile. He was finally understanding why Alphas weren't meeting the each other. It seemed that they couldn't stand each other. Joe looked at him.

  
"How could it be worse? It's already everywhere around you. What is it?"

  
"The reason I'm here."


End file.
